Like Vines
by freakingdork
Summary: "There's a cafe three blocks from his new flat where the tea is bland, food is just alright, and the service is mediocre at best. He'd probably not return if it wasn't for her. Maybe she's a little average to the naked eye, but John feels drawn to her." Post-Reichenbach. John/Mary, John/Sherlock. Warning for mental health issues and suicidal ideation.


**Like Vines**

* * *

The day after John visits Sherlock's grave, he's moved out of 221B Baker Street entirely. Harry takes him in for a time, but it isn't long before old arguments resurface and the shouting matches are doing nothing to help his recently returned limp. A desperate search for flat turns up nothing in his price range, which is disappointing but unsurprising given the last time he looked for a place to stay. The mere thought of returning to a bedsit is painful and the one time he considers sharing a flat with a new roommate leaves him imagining eating his gun. John shakes away the thought and applies for a few new positions that have opened up at various hospitals.

When he gets hired on as an A&E physician, he tries not to wonder if Mycroft has used his considerable power to influence the hospital's decision.

* * *

There's a cafe three blocks from his new flat where the tea is bland, food is just alright, and the service is mediocre at best. He'd probably not return if it wasn't for _her_. Maybe she's a little average to the naked eye, but John feels drawn to her. The worst part of the whole thing might be that she's not even there half the time, but when she is, John can't help watching her. It's probably a little creepy, so when she looks up from her book and catches him staring, John stays away for quite some time.

Eventually, he does return and she's there, reading yet another thick book. But when he looks up from his newspaper, intent on walking over to her, she's gone. John sighs and then there's someone poking his shoulder.

He turns and she says, "I've missed you watching me." And he can feel himself blush, but she continues, "My name's Mary. What's yours?"

* * *

He runs into Molly on the street and though everything's been a little strained between them, John tells her about Mary. She congratulates him, but almost immediately apologizes for forgetting about an appointment she has to run to and takes off. It's bothersome that he can't quite work out why she'd react like that.

After all, his lover has been dead for six months and John's not the one she had a crush on anyway.

* * *

Most of their early dates go like this:

Usually, they meet at the cafe and John drinks his tea while Mary reads her book, always saying she doesn't need the extra calories of a scone.

Sometimes they walk in the park, but sometimes they just go back to John's flat.

Either is fine with him. It's all fine with him.

* * *

"Mary sounds great, just what you need," Lestrade says over his drink. "So when do I get to meet her?"

"I dunno. She isn't too keen on bars and paying for a pint seems to be the only way to get you to come out these days," John teases and really, this is the first time he's even seen Lestrade since he started dating Mary seven months ago.

Lestrade takes a long drag from his pint and says, "Yeah, well..."

Neither of them feels keen about discussing why Lestade is so busy at work and they're certainly not going to talk about why he'd need John to pay for him.

So they go back to yelling at the football game instead.

* * *

Before long, his limp subsides. It's still there, but not bad enough for a cane and that's good because its hard to run around A&E with it hindering him.

He credits Mary for his progress. She just blushes and tells him to stop making her head big.

Really though, if John didn't know better, he'd think Mary had known him his whole life. They finish each others' sentences, she knows what to say when he wakes up from yet another nightmare, and he manages to finally be the good boyfriend he's always meant to be.

He tries not to think about why that is.

* * *

"Baby brother, you _must_ bring her by," Harry says on a rare phone call. "It's my sisterly duty to show her your embarrassing photos and tell her all your weak spots."

John huffs out a laugh. "I don't know if I'm ready to deal with the two of you teaming up on me."

"I swear you're hiding her from me on purpose. Am I really that much of an embarrassment?" she asks and despite her joking tone, he knows that it's a serious question.

"Harry...you're not. It's just a matter of matching up schedules, that's all."

"Okay, okay. But _soon_."

"Yes, soon."

* * *

Most of their recent dates go like this:

They just have a nice night in, watching tv or playing cards. Occasionally, John cooks, but he picks up food more often.

Sometimes, he goes out of his way to pick up Italian and Angelo elbows him and says he needs to bring his girlfriend in. John promises he'll bring her next time, knowing he won't. It's still a place with too many memories and he doesn't think he could handle it.

Mary never eats a lot, but John doesn't mind terribly; most of the leftovers he ends up with make great lunches.

* * *

They're at home, watching the latest episode of Top Gear and it's so very familiar and comfortable. Mary's puts her feet on his lap, so John's rubbing them when he decides to bring it up.

"I think we should have a party," he suggests; she tenses slightly. "Then you can meet all my friends at once."

"John..."

"I know I don't see them a lot and it can be tiring, even for me, but they're important to me and you're important to me. It would mean so much to me."

"That's a lot of people all at once. You know how nervous crowds make me," she says. When he starts to argue, she says, "It's just not time yet, okay?"

John concedes, but the sad note in Mary's voice troubles him greatly.

* * *

John isn't expecting a dead man when he opens the door.

"It's...you're..."

"Sherlock?" Mary asks, sidling up behind him in her silk robe. She holds him against her chest, grounding him in reality.

"Yes," John answers.

The man tilts his head considering something before saying, "I'm sorry John."

And then, instead of punching the bloody bastard, John pulls out of Mary's grasp and hugs Sherlock.

* * *

"When are you moving back in? Mrs Hudson misses you."

John feels guilty for that. Oh, he'd wanted to see her, but that would mean going to a place so painful that he just couldn't bear it.

"I don't...I can't Sherlock."

"What?" he asks as if there had been no question whether or not John would be back at Baker Street within the week.

"It's pretty far from where I work now and..." John stops for a deep breath. He doesn't know what to say and it doesn't matter because Sherlock reads it off his face anyway.

"Oh. You're seeing someone else."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You thought I was dead for nearly two years," Sherlock says, his voice slightly strained. He clears his throat. "Really John, it's only logical that you'd find someone else to become romantically involved with."

John takes a deep breath. "Logical. Right."

"Yes John. There's no need to repeat what I've said."

John sighs and while it's fond, the tension in the room is still palpable.

* * *

Dinner with Mary isn't much better than his afternoon with Sherlock.

"Are you going to leave me?" she asks and John nearly chokes on his tortellini.

"Mary, no. I want to be with you."

"I would understand, you know? It's fine, I promise."

The worst part is that he can tell she means it and it makes his heart hurt for her.

"I know you are, so trust me when I say I want to be with you."

Mary nods and takes a small bite of her lasagna.

He's not sure why she leaves after dinner though.

* * *

John actually doesn't see much of Sherlock for a month. Once he'd deduced the relationship, John knew he'd keep his distance for awhile anyway, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

As for Mary, she's distant too. She still shows up most nights of the week, but there's a quiet desperation under the surface. He's tried to get her to talk about it a few times; she refuses, saying nothing's wrong.

* * *

_There's been a murder, come now._

* * *

"You know, I _do_ have a regular job now, one I can't just call off on at a moment's notice."

Sherlock huffs at the inconvenience. "Don't worry, I solved it about an hour ago."

"Are you kidding me?" Sally asks. "I've a date tonight that I'd really like to get to."

Sherlock looks her over. "Seems you've gotten better taste in my absence, well done. I just wanted to see how much John's skills have atrophied in my absence."

Sally throws up her arms and stomps off, presumably to find Lestrade.

"Bit not good Sherlock," John says. "I had plans too."

Sherlock looks as close to being ashamed as he can, which is barely at all.

"Look, you're on this side of town anyway, so after you finish up with Lestrade, meet me at mine. Mary doesn't like company much, but she's already met you and you two are going to have to get along at some point."

"Already met...?" Sherlock starts and then seems to think better of it. "Yes, of course I'll be there."

John walks away, wondering what the hell Sherlock was about to ask.

* * *

Mary's there when he comes home with the takeaway.

"That's a lot of food," Mary says.

John nods. "Love, will you be a dear and set the table for three?"

Mary freezes. "What?"

"I've invited Sherlock over. I know it might be a bit awkward, but I really need for you two to get along."

There's tears in her eyes that John doesn't understand, but she sets the table for three all the same.

* * *

John can't figure out why Sherlock's so late; he hopes he hasn't gone off galavanting after the suspect. By the time the doorbell finally buzzes, Mary's calmed down, though she still looks as though she's headed for an execution.

"Don't worry, it'll all be fine," he says, going for the door.

He guides Sherlock to the sitting room and gestures towards Mary.

"Since you two never officially met..." John starts, but the different emotions on both their faces stops him. "What?"

Sherlock looks at Mary like he's trying to solve a puzzle. John just barely resists the urge to shake Sherlock and tell him that his girlfriend's not a fucking puzzle.

"When did we meet?"

"Don't be a fucking arse. It was over a month ago. Mary was there the night you came back. She was standing right behind me."

"John..." Sherlock says in a soft, pitying way that doesn't make any sense. "No one's on the couch."

"Have you gone mad?" John asks, sitting down next to Mary. Her hands are shaking and belatedly, John realizes that his are too. "You must've hit your head even harder than you thought."

And that's cruel, he knows it, but Sherlock's talking about his girlfriend like she isn't even there.

"I didn't think it was strange when Lestrade told me he'd never met Mary and I assumed I hadn't met her because of our past, but...John, I asked around and _no one_ has met her."

"She's shy, a homebody. There's nothing wrong with that."

"It's been over a year John. And..." Sherlock pauses, almost like he's trying to think of a tactful way to put it and that makes John's stomach drop. "I had Mycroft pull up CCTV tapes from the past five weeks since my return...and some from earlier."

With that, Mary's up like a bolt and running for the front door. John takes off after her, except when he reaches the front door, she's not there and the door hasn't slammed, let alone made a noise at all.

Sherlock looms behind John and his hand is a heavy weight on John's shoulder.

"No," John says.

"Think about it John. Think. Why did you stop going to the cafe?"

"The waitstaff kept giving us strange looks," he says, his face screwing up at the memory. "Same with...the park too."

"Where does she work?"

"I don't...I don't know?"

"What's her phone number?" Sherlock asks. "Where does she live?"

A light goes off in his head. "I've got her number!" John pulls out his phone, brings up the contact information. "It's...this isn't even a proper number."

Sherlock nods.

"The videos?" he asks, his heart in his throat.

"It's just you John. _Only_ you."

John's knees ache from his legs collapsing under him and he can't quite breathe. "But I've been going to work. I'm...I'd been functioning. She couldn't be..." He looks up at Sherlock who's tense and almost cold. "Am I dreaming? Are _you_ a hallucination too?"

Sherlock joins him on the floor, draws him up into what must be the most comforting and yet, most awkward hug. It's such a Sherlock thing that he wants to cry. "We'll get you help. The best. Mycroft's promised."

John whispers, "I was going to ask her to marry me."

And he can physically feel Sherlock hold back a sob, but he says, "Only the best for you."

John can't help but wonder if the best will be good enough.

* * *

**A/N -** This is from a prompt on the BBC!Sherlock kink meme. Since I can't link here, feel free to go to my LJ or AO3 to see the original prompt (I didn't use it as a summary because it was far to spoilery for the end of the fic).

That said, I know I've marked it as complete, BUT I'm considering some form of continuation (another chapter?). If I do, it might be awhile since writing about some aspects of mental health can be rather painful for me. Feel free to follow this if you're interested. Otherwise, thanks for reading!


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